


Soft Opening

by Holladay Street (street)



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Emily is Secretly the Strategic Business Minded One, F/F, Kelley is grumpy and kind of an idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:13:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22136092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/street/pseuds/Holladay%20Street
Summary: Sonny was in Kelley's coffee shop before it was even open. In fact, she was kind of all over the shop from the very beginning.
Relationships: Kelley O'Hara/Emily Sonnett
Comments: 47
Kudos: 218





	1. Soft Opening

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing this instead of Cherry Bomb because of Allie's insta from this morning of Sonny watching Kelley make pour-over, and because [Slidetacklefc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/slidetacklefc/pseuds/slidetacklefc) told me I should. Coffee shop name courtesy of [After_Angels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/After_Angels/pseuds/After_Angels).
> 
> Un beta-ed, heck, un-edited. I need to do something with my day but gotta get this written first - the plot bunny won't stop biting until I do.

Sonny was in Kelley's coffee shop before it was even open. In fact, she was kind of all over the shop from the very beginning.

Kelley should have minded - would have minded - but Sonny's enthusiasm was gratifying in those first wobbly days when the whole idea was made of scotch tape and chewing gum and bogglingly-expensive commercial leases and endless gallons of Kelley's own stubborn determination.

Sonny was useful, too. She never seemed to mind nipping over from the sneaker store next door. Yesterday she's let the tile installer in to finish the countertops while Kelley was across town sourcing vegan pastries. Today she had wandered over in the middle of the afternoon and had ended up balanced on a step-stool, holding a shelf level while Kelley wielded the drill.

"Does Tobin know she's paying you to be over here helping me?" Kelley asked, as she changed out the drill bit. "She's practically losing money to the competition."

"That's ridicules." Sonny retorted. "Just because she let me get that slushy machine does _not_ make us competition. We're totally complementary business models. Now are you going to dig around in that toolbox for a level, or do I need to download an app? This shelf is gonna be right in your customers' eye-line when they come in - it's got to look sharp."

That was the other thing about her - she was actually really, _really_ good at retail.

Sonny could revamp the color scheme of all the merch displays in Tobin's store before lunch break, sell a pair of limited edition kicks to the snobbiest collector without breaking a sweat, and she somehow stayed upbeat and irreverent through the most punishing weekend rush. Her gatorade slushy concoctions were as delicious as they were weird. Sonny claimed they were to "stimulate customers' sense memories of childhood sports practices, and evoke a level of nostalgia that would spur purchase decisions". But the drinks were so unique they could easily stand on their own outside of the sneaker store - the perfect side hustle, if Sonny was ever in the mood. Kelley was half expecting Tobin to apply for a liquor license so that Sonny could expand her repertoire. 

But lately, Sonny's new passion seemed to be the coffee shop.

"Why do you wait after pouring the hot water?" she asked. She was back behind the counter (of course she was - as good as Sonny was with customers she seemed to have no sense of personal space when it came to Kelley) peering over Kelley's shoulder at the row of taste tests lined up on the newly-tiled counter.

"Blooming the coffee releases carbon dioxide that makes it taste sour otherwise. Why are you so interested, anyway?"

"Mm, I just like knowing things." Sonny rested her hands on Kelley's shoulders, watching the coffee grounds swell and bubble. Kelley could feel the heat of Sonny all against her back. She wondered for a moment if she's made enough space behind the counter when she decided on the layout - she couldn't afford for it to be too tight back here, especially once the shop was busy enough to need two people working the counter.

"Why doesn't espresso bloom, then?" Sonny asked.

"Because it's stupid. It doesn't matter - I won't be serving espresso."

"I still think that's a horrible business model." Sonny said dubiously.

"Shut up. A pourover-only coffee shop will feel more exclusive. And it will be easier for customers to decide what to get. It's totally the next big thing."

"But what about kids who want steamed milk? What about _hot cocoa_ , Kelley?"

"Sonny, it's July. I think it will be fine for a while. If people ask for cocoa I could make them . . . something iced probably? I'm not sure, I'll figure it out."

"Ooh!" Sonny brightened and spun away to the other end of the serving area. _There was plenty of space back here_ , Kelley thought, _I must have been making it up - goodness knows I don't need more things to worry about a week before opening._

"I saw a really interesting ice chocolate recipe online while ago - you could sorta double down on your single origin coffee bean sourcing and do cocoa beans too?" Sonny lounged against the counter as she hunted for the recipe on her phone. "Um, what's your number Kelley? I'd be happy to text this to you."

Sonny sent her the link for the recipe that evening (it looked delicious). The next evening she sent a picture of her puppy, and an article from Specialty Coffee Purveyors of The Americas on the popularity of espresso drinks for weekday commuters vs. leisure- and shopping-oriented customer demographics. The next morning she sent a Spotify playlist titled _Soft Opening._

Kelley avoided Sonny for a couple of days after that. Partly she didn't quite know what to think (the playlist was mellow but fresh and didn't stick too hard to any particular genre - it was frankly perfect for the kind of daytime crowd she was hoping to draw). And partly she was less than a week away from the _literal_ soft opening of her very first coffee shop, and the closer her dream got to reality the more it seemed to fall to pieces. The barista she'd hired decided to follow his new boyfriend to Alaska and quit before he'd even started, the city permit for her signage hadn't been issued yet, and nobody had replied to her emails about getting the front window painted so that customers would have _some_ idea what the shop was called until the damn permitting mixup resolved.

Sonny picked up on Kelley's stress though, somehow.

Three days before the opening, Kelley arrived to find Sonny wiping down all the little cafe tables - the floors still shiny from being freshly mopped. Sonny had somehow managed not to get a drop of mop water on her truly outrageous salmon-pink sneakers. Kelley shot her a grateful smile somewhere in the middle of grumbling about why Sonny still had a key to Kelley's shop the first place.

Two days before the opening, Kelley was already several frantic hours into setup when she barreled out of the back room with a tray of mugs and almost ran right into Sonny (behind the counter _again_ ) hunched over something. Sonny was the one smiling this time - apologetically - and she slipped out without a word.  
But when Kelley straightened from putting the mugs away she noticed a splash of orange and pink. Sonny had brought a unglazed ceramic pitcher with simple, clean lines - exactly the kind of accessory Kelley had in mind for the counter once she had _any_ time at all to go hunting for that kind of thing - and she'd filled it with dahlias. Kelley went to pull it closer and admire the bright flowers when she noticed something else on the counter - one of her brand new plates with a sandwich on it. The sandwich was wrapped in crisp paper and cut on the diagonal - some sprouts and a few errant sesame seeds from the crusty bread spilling across the plate - in sharpie on the wrapper were the words "Eat me!" Kelley smiled. She hadn't stopped to think about feeding herself since grabbing an energy bar early that morning. And she loved a good Alice in Wonderland reference. 

One day before the opening, the laundry service had delivered towels and floor mats, her first batches of coffee beans were all bagged, and the pastry case was gleaming and ready to be filled with deliveries first thing the next morning. The shop still had no signage, and Kelley was still scheduling interviews to find a barista, but she comforted herself that at least opening day wouldn't be an utter shambles.

Kelley heard a knock on the front window and twisted around from where she'd been stocking the cold drinks fridge. It was Sonny - clutching something large and looking a mix of hopeful and trepidatious.

"What can I do for you, Sonny?" Kelley asked, holding the door for her to shuffle through.

"Um, I was hoping to maybe do something for you?" Sonny set down her load and Kelley realized it was a painter's dropcloth and some jars and brushes. "Tobin said you haven't been able to find anyone to do the window. I'd thought I could do something temporary, you know, until you get ahold of a professional?"

"Have you even painted a window before?" Kelley asked. She'd seen the window displays Sonny concocted next door (hey were wild and eye-catching and ridiculously good - Tobin had ceded that task to Sonny within two months of hiring her and, frankly, Kelley thought it was one of her better business decisions) but those were always merchandise. Kelley had never seen paint in the mix.

"I've done some little stuff." Sonny replied. "I can make sure customers know what your place is called, at least."

"Well, that _would_ be better than nothing." Kelley said. "Just don't go too crazy with it - the aesthetic in here is really different from the stuff you do next door."

"I know" Sonny reassured, already bending to spread out the dropcloth and shake up her paint.

Even while the painting was still only roughed out Kelley had to admit that it looked much, _much_ better than nothing. Sonny was sticking to white so far, traced a looping, scrolling script across the entire plateglass window. It was already casting the prettiest shadows across the floor, and framing the view outside in lovely little curved frames between the letters.

"If you're still looking for a barista, my friend Lindsey gets back into town next week. She used to work at Coava Coffee. She's super reliable - we had work study together in college." Sonny said as she carefully outlined an upper-case G.

"Tell her to get in touch. I'm still looking." Kelley sighed.

"If you need someone sooner I could . . . I'd have to talk to Tobin but . . . I could probably help out for a couple of days. You'd have to teach me the coffee stuff. But I really like it here." Sonny's gaze was back on the window. Again, Kelley wasn't quite sure what to make of the offer. Her grand openings was on what (she hoped) would be a busy summer weekend. And she knew that Sonny's commission on shoes was far more than the tips a brand new coffee shop would bring. She let the subject drop and went back to wiping down the counters. She couldn't help but pause after a few minutes though, to watch Sonny work - she had finished filling in the letters and was working with a fine brush, edging them gold.

"Let me make you some coffee for your trouble." Kelley said once Sonny was packing up.

"Sure, that would be nice." Sonny said. "I'm staying late tonight - our Nike shipment gets here in a couple hours."

Kelley wondered again about all the time Sonny was taking away from her real job. Sure, Kelley and Tobin were friends, and the shop next door wanted hers to succeed, but still - she had a feeling she'd be supplying Tobin with baked goods for months in retroactive compensation for borrowing her employee's time, if she wasn't careful.

They took their coffees across the street and settled on a bus bench to evaluate Sonny's sign.

Kelley's shop was nestled between the riotous colors of the sneaker shop on one side, and a cheerfully disorganized vintage store on the other. In contrast to both, the coffee shop looked fresh and calm. Sonny's scrolling lettering spelled out _T_ _he_ _Grind_ , spilling across the whole window at a slight angle, and glinting even from here with tiny accents of gold.

"Sonny . . . my god . . . it's perfect." 

Even though Kelley had watched Sonny plan and trace and finish the whole thing, there was something about seeing it like this. The shop looked _finished._ It looked _ready_ in a way Kelley had dreamed of for years but hadn't quite believed would come to fruition until just now.

"Thank you so much, Sonny. That is the literally perfect finishing touch. I'm not bringing in anyone to replace that. It's beautiful."

"That's awesome!" Sonny smiled at her, face bright behind her coffee cup. "Hey, this coffee is really good. Are you sure you don't want me to come help tomorrow? You shouldn't have to work the whole day by yourself."

"Sonny . . . " Kelley angled toward her, finally too puzzled to let it go. "Are you trying to ask me for a job? You keep offering, and you've done _so_ much at the shop. I appreciate the fuck out of it, but I don't understand."

"Am I trying to ask you for a _job?_ " Emily laughed. "Kelley, no. You idiot. I'm trying to ask you for a _date_. _"_


	2. The Girl Next Door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am having an extremely stressy and suspenseful day of adulting. To cope, I'm day-drinking and writing fluff. You're welcome.

It had taken months. Months of landlord approvals and city permits and contractors and dust and noise. But Sonny handled all the paperwork (somehow alongside being Tobin's highest grossing employee of the financial quarter, _and_ installing a living wall of plants in Kelley's shop after hours). And on a rainy winter Wednesday it was finally done; they had opened up one of the original brick archways between Tobin's sneaker shop and The Grind. 

"Well that worked out, didn't it babe?" Sonny asked, slipping her arms around Kelley from behind as they stood admiring the new shared space.

"Yeah. You were right - it looks _so_ good." Kelley agreed, leaning back against Sonny's chest. "I don't know how you knew to do this arch further back instead of the front one. But _damn_ it was the right call."

"Mm, that's me," Sonny chuckled, "retail savant."

"You think you're joking..." Kelley muttered, twisting to buss a kiss across Sonny's cheek before she moved back behind the counter.

It had been dream-like, this whole process. From the worry and bustle before The Grind opened, to their clockwork schedule now - Kelley opening, and Lindsey (who had learned the shop with cheerfully effortless precision, and who was always, _always_ on time) taking afternoons. From her steadily building clientele of regulars, to the riotous after-hours with Lindsey and the sneaker store staff and the odd but hilarious Rose from the vintage shop next door - all of them sprawled along the banquette seating in Kelley's shop telling customer stories or swapping anecdotes about the building's landlord.

And Sonny. Through it all, Sonny. They'd gone from work-neighbours to practically joined at the hip with the new shared space. Kelley loved how simple it was to wander into the sneaker shop and steal a kiss while Sonny shelved stock. She loved the easy way Sonny slid behind the coffee shop counter in the mornings - helping herself to a coffee, serving a customer or two, and copping a cheeky feel of Kelley's ass once the morning rush slowed.

After the spectacular miscommunication of their early days, everything had been smooth. ("I was practically courting you!" Sonny would say, much later, when they finally stopped kissing long enough to discuss it. "It was a sandwich." Kelley replied. "And flowers. A sandwich _and flowers!_ " Sonny shot back, pouting extravagantly until Kelley kissed her again.) They fit together in a way Kelley had never felt before - Sonny's big picture view and unconscious way of caring for people smoothing out Kelley's rough edges and detail focus. Nothing was official yet, but Kelley caught herself - more mornings than she could quite admit - staring fondly at Sonny's sleeping face in the dawn light before she slipped out of bed to open the shop, and wondering what steps she should take to be able to say _love_ , to say _sweetheart,_ to say _girlfriend._

But for now, Sonny was her interior design advisor, her feature-wall-installation genie, her far too indulgent care-taker when Kelley got sucked into the minutia of new business ownership, her sweet piece of something to press against the weathered brick wall and kiss in the fading evening light.


	3. Like Three Peas in a Pod

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonny is distracted. It takes weeks for Kelley to find out why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soft Opening was a one-shot. Then Soran_Rising and I got talking about it, and this happened.

Christmas that first year at The Grind was wild. Waves of chilled shoppers, over-tired kids, a constant spill of gift bags and damp coats across the floor, extended families pushing tables together and staying for hours - siping cup after cup of the single-origin hot cocoa that Sonny had helped Kelley source when the weather turned cold. They had finally gotten their liquor license, and when the awkward in-law or frustrated adult child stepped up to the counter for a refill Kelley would hold up the whiskey bottle with questioning eyes - getting a grateful nod more often than not.

The long days almost put Kelley's own Christmas plans out of her head completely. Tobin's shop was open right through until Christmas eve and sales were booming - Kelley just synched up her hours and rode the wave along with them. Once both the shops were closed in the evenings she and Lindsey would divvy a batch of mulled wine into mugs and slip through the open brickwork arch between the shops. Everyone end up sitting in a rough circle on the floor mostly evenings, silent and exhausted, sipping their wine.

Sometimes Sonny would rest her head on Kelley's shoulder, but more often she was be distracted - mentally calculating the shop's profit margin for that day, or scrambling up onto her tired feet with a groan to go check when a special order was supposed to come in. 

Sonny was still distracted after Christmas. Kelley has flown out of state for a week to visit family, and hadn't heard as much from Sonny as she'd expected - the cheerful stream of texts that usually filled the evenings when they were apart had trickling off to just a few quick exchanges.

Kelley asked about it when she got back - half hoping for an explanation, and half dreading that Sonny say she'd been recruited by Nike or Adidas, or was applying to business school on the other coast, or was in some way being swept into the commercial heart of retail - far from their little row of shops, and far from Kelley. That was the thing about Sonny - happy as she seemed but she was so, _so good._ Kelley knew that Sonny wouldn't be selling shoes on commission forever. 

"Sonny, babe?" Kelley asked, stroking blond fly-aways back from Sonny's cheek, admiring how the strands glowed gold in the warm light from the bedside lamp. "Son, are we ok?"

"Hmm? What?" Sonny murmured, lifting her head from Kelley's chest.

"Are we ok?" she asked again. "I feel like something's changed. Not between us maybe, but . . . somewhere."

"Oh. Oh babe!" Sonny wrapped her arms around Kelley's waist and pulling her close. "We're good - we're so good. Your tongue is especially good babe, when you do that thing. . . with your. . . " Sonny trailed off, nosing across Kelley's collarbones and pressing damp kisses against the skin there.

Kelley kept stroking Sonny's hair, staying quieter in Sonny's distraction than she usually managed, until Sonny paused and looked up.

"Oh, you're fretting." Sonny said, stilling her hands where they'd been rubbing circles against Kelley's skin, and wriggling up until they could see each other better. 

Kelley shook her head, started to say that it was fine, to forget it, that maybe it was time for another round. But Sonny's expression was earnest now.

"Don't say it's nothing, babe," Sonny said, reaching up to smooth Kelley's forehead, "I know you. Right now your worry lines are like when you have to file your quarterly taxes." That drew a small laugh, but Sonny continued. "You're right, there is . . . it's not you, I promise. You're wonderful. _We're_ wonderful. I love this thing with you so much, baby." Sonny kissed the edge of her mouth, all earnestness now, her own forehead crumpled into the dear worry-wrinkles Kelley loved to trace with her fingers. Kelley kissed back, mostly mollified.

"There is . . ." Sonny hesitated, her eyes flicking up as she searched for the right words, ". . .there is something I'm trying to figure out right now. I have no idea if it'll actually happen. It's so early I don't want to jinx it . . . can you be patient with me? For a little bit?"

"You can't tell me?" Kelley asked. She'd meant it to be clarifying but it came out mournful - visions of Sonny far away on some other career path were still vivid in her head.

"I will tell you, I promise." Sonny said. "I just need to do this on my own for a minute. Give me just a little time?"

"Of course." Kelley acquiesced. If she was about to lose Sonny maybe it was better to enjoy things while she could. And if she wasn't, well, her brain had a funny knack of looking for trouble where there wasn't any.

Sonny smiled at her, soft now, and Kelley nestled closer - seeking with her body the comfort she'd been hoping to find with her words. Sonny seemed to understand, pulling her in and rolling them so Kelley was pressed deep in the mattress, Sonny's thigh warm and solid between legs.

"We're ok babe," Sonny murmured into her hair, nosing against her ear. Kelley could feel the gust of breath as Sonny whispered "I promise."

Nothing seemed too different from the outside, but Kelley clocked the little changes and filed them away in her brain. (For curiosity, she told herself. But really they were for accurate worrying.)

Sonny took long lunch breaks away from the shop some days, slipping on a blazer instead of a sweatshirt as she left. The shadows under her eyes got a little darker as the weeks wore on - the weight of things accumulating in some private space beyond Kelley's reach. Sonny was in Kelley's bed as often as ever, but when Kelley woke up to the lush warmth of Sonny against her in the early gray light, Sonny's forehead was crumpled even in sleep. Kelley told herself things would smooth out soon. She pushed down the thoughts of corporate recruiters or GRA test prep courses.

"Can I ask you something?" Sonny whispered against her temple at the end of February. They were pressed together trading good-morning kisses behind the counter of The Grind, the everything still early and quiet.

Kelley nodded.

"I need a week, babe. For this . . . this _thing._ And then I want to tell you all about it, I want to show you . . ."

"A week?" Kelley asked, "where?"

"I'll still be around. But I'm going to use some vacation days and - I think it's close, babe. I can't wait to show you."

"Ok." Kelley nodded. She could feel the somber set of her face. She didn't do well with surprises - she never had.

"It's not a bad thing, Kels. I promise." Sonny cupped her cheeks and kissed the tip of her nose. "My god, I . . . I should be frustrated or something, that you're not more excited for me, but you're _so_ cute when you pout . . ."

"I'm not pouting!" Kelley said.

"My babe, you are _absolutely_ pouting." Sonny kissed her nose again, giggling a little as she did.

Kelley spent the next week doing a deep clean of the shop's refrigeration units, the dishes storage, the Hobart. She got up extra early to skype with her coffee growers' coop in Brazil. She upped her running miles. On evenings she didn't run, she stayed late in the vintage shop next door helping pack - Rose was moving her store to a bigger space a few blocks down.

Sonny stopped by, mid-afternoon on the sixth day. She was windswept, distracted, and gorgeous. Kelley handed her a coffee without a word, and Sonny smiled, leaned across the counter, and kept her voice low when she asked, "could I come by tonight?" 

That night they made it as far as Kelley's kitchen before Sonny pressed her against the wall, set her hot mouth right under Kelley's jaw, and slid Kelley's skirt up with urgent hands.

The next morning Kelley woke to Sonny already awake, eager and restless. Sonny chivvied her out of bed, handing her a piece of toast folded over like a makeshift sandwich before Kelley even had her socks on. 

When they were two streets away from The Grind, Sonny told her to close her eyes.

"Why?" Kelley whined. Her eyes already closed, but she couldn't resist making fun.

"You'll see." Was all Sonny would say.

"I won't see _anything_ like this. And why are you making this a surprise when we're _obviously_ going to my shop - you're not fooling me Sonnett."

"Can't get anything past you, I guess." Sonny replied, and Kelley could hear the smile in her voice.

Sonny parked and guided Kelley out - along the familiar uneven sidewalk, past the smell of the early-season daffodils Sonny had planted in window boxes along along the front of their building.

But when Sonny slid them through a shop door, the smell of coffee and shoe leather was missing. And as they walked deeper into . . . into _wherever_ they were, the space echoed around them.

"Ok," Sonny said finally, "open your eyes, babe."

"What is - oh my god - Son, what _is_ this?" Kelley asked. 

She had been here just three days ago helping Rose. But now, the space that had been the vintage store was empty except for some taped outlines on the floor.

"This is it, Kel. This is what I've been working on." Sonny said. She spread out her arms and spun around - a tomboy Maria on a shop-front mountain top. "This, Kelley, is my plant shop!"

Sonny's words started tumbling out, almost too fast to follow now, as Sonny flitted from one tape outline on the floor to the next - moving around Kelley who pivoted in place, silent, delighted, drinking it in.

"This is going to be the counter, nice and far back so there's room for lots of stock. This wall will be all plants, and there's space here for coolers so I can do some cut flowers too - there isn't a single florist in this neighborhood, so the market niche is wide open." Sonny grinned - the same grin as when she'd figured out how to highlight the most oddly colored pair of sneakers in the display, or make Kelley's menu board easier to read. "Back here will be a great big potting bench - it's in the middle so I can teach workshops at it. And this wall here . . ." Sonny paused in front of a brick archway - the mirror image of the arch they'd opened up last year between Kelley's and Tobin's stores "I already have planning permission to open this up. I'll be right next to you, Kelley. Every day. I'll be right next to you running my very own business."

Kelley moved then. Catching Sonny up in a hug until they were both crushed against the brick archway that - soon enough - would be open between their shops.


End file.
